


Quam singulari

by Anonymous



Series: Undesirables [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chan, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extremely Underage, Harry is unable to consent to any of this, Improper use of stuffed animals, M/M, Mentions of Grooming, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Pedophilia, Praise Kink, Rimming, Rough Sex, Somnophilia, innocence kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23351185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Spermarche: the beginning of a boy's development of sperm; normally signifies a boy's beginning in sexual maturity and puberty.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Undesirables [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1365844
Comments: 17
Kudos: 383
Collections: Anonymous





	Quam singulari

“H-Hhha…” 

So tight, so _very_ tight. The boy’s insides refused his every attempt to drive forward. The muscles pushed back against the thick intrusion, pressing his cock-head from all sides.

“T-Tom… I don’t,” the boy breathed out body straining, head against his broad chest. “Don't think…” The hand holding his, not even the size of his palm, squeezed, the strength barely felt.

He tsk-ed and pulled the boy off his cock completely, the tip nudging the fluttering hole. The boy’s bum fit snugly in his free hand, and Tom took the opportunity to knead it, admiring its softness.

“Tom?” The boy looked back and up at him, bright green eyes so watery yet so _trusting_. Tom gave him a smile and bent down to kiss his forehead as a reward. His free hand shifting slightly to curve around thin hips—shoving the boy downwards

The boy _shrieked_.

Back arched violently away from Tom’s chest, head thrown back, mouth agape and eyes rolled backward, the boy twitched in his lap. Tears rolled down plump cheeks in shock. Tom groaned at the all-encompassing heat, stilling. He savoured the way the boy’s hole and insides spasmed around his thick cock.

After a few seconds—plenty of time for rest—he lifted the boy halfway up his shaft before letting go. A cry left the boy’s open mouth as he dropped back down, the small hand entwined in his tensing in reflex. Tom repeated the action a few more times, increasing the height the boy fell from each time until only the head was sheathed before he found a good rhythm.

Broken whimpers and hiccoughs echoed through the air. Whenever the boy was lifted upwards, his muscles tightened, unwilling to let Tom’s cock leave. And when pulled down, the boy bloomed, insides sucking him back in like a too eager hug.

Soon, pleasured gasps and mewls spilled from those cute plush lips. Tom quickened the pace, dragging the boy up and down like a rag doll.

The boy's fingers flexed over his knuckles, in time with the fluttering warmth surrounding him. Tom lifted their hands to kiss those tiny digits. The boy’s other hand clenched around his bicep for dear life, leaving small grooves in the shape of blunt nails.

“T- _Tom_! I—unf… n-nnnuh—” the boy tried, biting those pink lips red, that little brain of his struggling to find words to translate the pleasure. A delighted smile stretched Tom's lips. He knew what his poor boy was experiencing, and he hid them behind the back of the boy's delicate neck.

He mouthed at the skin there, tongue laving and teeth nibbling, tasting the sweet sweat there. "I feel… feel—hah… _AH!_ —Tom! Come, something's _coming_!"

The boy screamed, curling into himself, pleasure crashing and spilling over him. His tiny cock twitching in vain. Tom gritted his teeth at the sudden constriction of the boy's passage, the little body pushing him out—

And that wouldn't do.

He drove his hips upwards when he slammed the boy down, pelvis slapping that adorable ass with a wet _squelch_ , forcing his cock to stay _inside_ that tight heat. He fucked the boy through his dry orgasm, relentless in his thrusts. The boy's cries had begun to peter off before another orgasm followed, come-less yet once again.

Moans punched out of the open mouth, little _uhn, uhn uhn_ s driving Tom wild. He noticed the extended pink tongue, saliva dripping from the tip to land messily down the boy's chin and chest. Enticed, Tom captured that tongue, mouth greedily swallowing down all those cute sounds.

The boy struggled with the kiss, choking when Tom let his tongue probe too far, and shivering when the entire cavity of his mouth was explored.

Although the boy was inexperienced and shy, he was eager. He attempted to meet Tom in every glide, going so far as to hesitantly stick his past Tom’s lips.

But soon, the grip on Tom’s bicep began to slack, the boy losing air. Ruefully, Tom pulled away, not before leaving one last swipe across the boy’s milk teeth, however.

Looking down, Tom could see the ruddy blush that was painted on the boy’s cheeks. His lips red and swollen and so _slick_ from their shared saliva, his chest heaving as he gulped in air. The boy’s eyes were glazed, framed by unshed tears.

Tom bent down to kiss the side of one of those brilliant green eyes, proud of the eager participation in their kiss. And as a reward, he slowed his thrusts when the boy’s orgasms had stopped, the tight muscles relaxing around his cock, no longer fighting his entry.

The small body in his lap began to squirm, uncomfortable, limbs twitching in an attempt to get away. When it got too much, Tom’s hold on the hip tightened, and the boy stopped, like a marionette with all its strings cut.

“Toooom,” the boy whined after a while, ass wiggling again. “Tom, it feels… a lot. I can’t—it feels like a very, very bad itch.”

“Shush,” Tom admonished, voice calm despite how high strung he was. “You were being such a good boy.” He rolled his hips and held the boy down on his lap, grinding, forcing his cock deep against intestinal walls. The boy jerked in his grasp, mewling at the sensation. “Don’t you want to continue being my good boy?”

The boy sobbed, a tear or two slipping, and Tom just wanted to lick them up. “I-I am, Tom! I am!” He wailed, body twisting to look at Tom, small hand resting on a large chest. A few more fat tears fell from his eyes, lips quivering. “I’m a good boy!”

At that, Tom relented, relieving the boy from his sweet torture, his cock no longer sheathed to the very hilt. The boy’s fluffy black hair was matted with sweat, plastered to his very skull. He sighed, untangling their hands to pet the black curls. Tom pressed his nose to the boy’s head and breathed, inhaling the sugary natural scent that lingered on the soft skin. The scent still dotted with the smell of milk and honey— _innocence_. 

A soft smile on his face, he sat back, the boy’s wide green eyes tracking his movements. The boy pressed into his hand, so very, very trusting. “Then you’ll be a good boy and help me finish, no?” 

Without warning, Tom slammed the boy down back, hips bucking upwards. Thin arms scrambled to wrap around his neck as he resumed his brutal thrusting. The boy’s face pressed into his neck, burying tears and whimpers into his skin, desperately holding on.

With the boy’s body turned and stretched in such a way, the new angle that Tom fucked into was electrifying. Especially when the boy seized up from his third orgasm.

His name was an unending mantra from the boy’s lips. The pitch rising higher and higher as the boy rode his pleasure, like a devout worshiping their lord, their _god_.

Spurred, Tom chased after his release with abandon, uncaring of the deep bruises that would bloom, oh so beautifully, on those bird-thin hips.

Pulling the boy's legs closer to their bodies, pressing them both together, Tom came.

\- -

Harry's body was small enough that his cock wouldn't slip out after he became soft.

As much as Tom wanted to keep his cock warm, Harry was going to squirm at the feeling of over-sensitivity again. Gently, he pulled Harry off and onto the bed, rolling him onto his side.

Tom stood and stretched, bending down to place a kiss on raven locks. He summoned a glass of water for Harry, before turning to appreciate his handiwork.

The boy on the bed was flushed.

A sheen of sweat covered him from head to toe, hair plastered and more messy than normal. His cheeks were bright and puffed, mouth open as he tried to catch his breath. Bites and hickeys sprinkled the delicate neck and shoulder. They blended in with all the freckles that decorated the small back, like a starscape.

Tom wanted to use his tongue to trace the imperfections on that soft skin, connecting one mark to another.

Dark handprints painted the boy's hips like a belt, dark red and slowly purpling. The thumbprints rested within inches of one another at the dip of the back, right above the buttocks. The boy's ass was red as if he'd been spanked as punishment. And between those cheeks, come leaked from the gaping hole, a mess of puffy and raw, sticky white streaking down thin thighs to puddle below.

But the semi-transparent bead on the boy's piss slit caught Tom's attention.

It was too viscous to be sweat and too opaque to be saliva, too clear to be urine.

Tom narrowed his eyes. It seemed preparations were to be in order soon.

\- -

Shrieks of laughter filtered in from outside. The sound of splashing as boots jumped into puddles, re-soaking the sun-dried pavement. A rainbow was sighted. A chorus of awe at the multi-coloured wonder's sharp contrast to the greyish clouds and pale sky. It wasn’t long until little voices bid each other goodbye, the novelty of a rainbow having worn out already.

Children’s attention span was short, after all.

Tom stood in the kitchen, cloth in hand as he dried a teacup. He set it down next to a teapot and a pair of saucers, exchanging it for another cup to dry.

He counted the seconds. Nine, ten, eleven. The patter of footsteps as they ran up the stairs. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. A school bag thumping as they rounded the landing. Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two.

Three soft raps on his door and Tom smiled, placing down the china next to its brethren. 

Behind the door stood little Harry in rain gear. A bright, lime rain cloak covered his school uniform, its cartoon frog hood pulled over black hair. A pair of bold red-coloured rubber boots in place of the standard oxfords, black socks just peeking above the top.

“TOM! Hello!” The boy exclaimed, hugging Tom’s legs the moment the door opened.

“Hello Harry,” Tom chuckled at his eagerness, letting the frog hood fall back so he could pat the black curls. He stepped back to let Harry in, and closed the door behind them, locking it. The wards immediately snapping in place.

“Don’t forget to take off your rain boots.” He reminded before the boy could take another step further from the entrance. “They’re wet.”

The boy nearly tripped in his haste to take them off, the boots landing in a pile, before running to the breakfast table. Tom huffed, bending down to straighten the boots, and followed after the boy at a more relaxed pace.

Harry was standing over the table, fawning over the little tea cakes and treats that Tom had made and set out earlier. Tom stood behind the boy, movement smooth as he reached down to undo the rain cloak. Casting a drying charm and folding it, Tom set it aside as he walked towards the kitchen.

“Why don’t you go wash your hands first, Harry, and I’ll bring out the tea.”

By the time the boy came back, Tom had set out the china, serving Harry a small sandwich and a treacle tart on his plate. Harry’s cup of tea made to his taste, to sate the sweet tooth the child had: three cubes of sugar and two spoonfuls of milk.

Tom leisurely sipped his tea as Harry ate, enjoying the way the child downed his homemade pastry with fervour.

“Take your time, Harry,” Tom admonished. The boy swallowed and nodded, taking smaller bites and chewing longer. “We wouldn’t want you to choke on them right? Your mother would be cross with me if you did.”

“Sorry, Tom, but it’s just so _good_!” Harry said as he plated a small slice of chocolate cake. “And I’m just so hungry!”

“...Harry. Did you not eat lunch today?” His brows creased in concern and annoyance when the boy didn’t respond. “ _Harry._ You’re not being a good boy right now.”

Green eyes shifted side to side as the little head hung low, cheeks reddening in shame. “...Ron didn’t bring his lunch today, so I gave him mine…”

Narrowing his eyes, he pinned Harry with a stare. It was most likely that the Weasley brat had tossed out whatever his mother had made and tricked Harry rather than “forgetting lunch.” Tom knew that while the Weasleys were poor, in no way would the Weasley Matriarch ever leave her brats hungry and unfed.

The boy squirmed in discomfort beneath his gaze, ass wiggling in the chair. He released a theatrical sigh, not missing the way the boy looked up demurely at him beneath his curls.

“Take one more sandwich— _only_ one, Harry.” He reiterated when small hands reached for the entire platter. Once it was taken, he banished the snacks with a wave of his hand, ignoring the disappointed noise the boy made. “Or Merlin forbid your mother say I spoiled your appetite.”

With the table cleared and the plates in the kitchen, Tom had Harry pull out his schoolwork. The child organized the papers in between them—in a way that Tom taught him, he was pleased to note. His boy was learning so well, such a good boy.

\- -

The rain had begun to sprinkle a good half-hour ago, the steadily greying skies promising heavier rain when they rolled by.

“Your mother might be late today,” Tom noted. The boy gave a distracted hum, concentration focused on the current problem, quill scratching away. “That’s the last one, yes? We can put away your homework after you finish.”

With the erasable quill out of his hand, Harry flopped down on the table and stretched, rolling this way and that while Tom stood and walked around the table. “I’m so tired! Why do our teachers have to give us so much homework?” A pout pushed those plush lips forward. “We’re not even in Hogwarts yet!”

Tom kneeled beside the boy’s chair, carefully placing the papers into the school bag. Harry’s thigh was in front of his face. The skin beneath the raised shorts so tempting, that it made his mouth water. The soft, sugary smell of the boy’s skin made Tom's teeth ache, to sink them into the flesh.

“It’s so you will be _prepared_ for the amount of work that Hogwarts will give you.” He said instead, towering over Harry in his full height, relishing in the way the boy craned his head to look up at him.

“I wish I had primary schooling before I went to Hogwarts.” He smoothed back an unruly curl, only to see it bounce back into place once his hand passed. Harry pressed into his touch, lashes fluttering both in bliss and drowsiness.

The boy was like a kitten, a cute fluffy thing that loved to be pampered and fed. Tom was sure if Harry had the ability to purr, he would be alongside a wagging tail and twitching ears.

The idea had merit, Tom mused, filing the thought away. A project for another time. But for now… 

“It seems that you’re too tired for the present I had in mind for you, Harry.” He watched, amused as the boy jolted, practically jumping from his chair. Alertness snapped back to those eyes, brightening the green to an unearthly hue.

“A gift? A gift? Tom, you got me a gift?”

Gently, Tom overpowered the boy’s sudden rush of energy, hands smoothing down thin arms. He manhandled Harry so that he was sitting again. He made Harry promise to be a good boy and turn away in his seat with his eyes closed so that he can retrieve the gift.

He guided Harry to the sitting room, holding his hand, the gift floating behind them. His boy was brimming with excitement, nearly buzzing out of his own skin, but he didn’t dare open his eyes, not even for a little peek. Tom wanted to purr, such obedience deserved to be rewarded.

“It’s a griffin!” Harry cried out in glee, throwing his arms around the neck of the stuffed creature. “It’s so _big_ , Tom! I can’t believe how big it is!” The stuffed griffin was the size of a miniature pony, as tall as the boy and twice as wide. With both on the couch, Harry was practically hanging off of the toy’s neck.

“I love it, Tom! I love it! I’m going to call it Albert!” The boy declared, rubbing his face to the soft material of the griffin's beak. Harry rested his cheek on the toy’s head, a soft dreamy smile on those lips. His eyes peeking beneath full lashes as he looked up at Tom.

So pleased and guileless those green were, that if Tom were a better man, he would feel some guilt at what he was about to do.

"Albert's not ready just yet, Harry." He said, slowly prying the toy from Harry's grip. "I have to do something first."

Tom straightened, and pulled his wand out, smiling at the look of confusion on the boy's face. Placing the tip near the bottom of the toy, between its hind legs, Tom casted a wordless _Diffindo_.

He watched with rising glee as the child's eyes widened, growing larger by the second. Tom sliced a neat line down the griffin's stomach, the length as tall as his palm, stuffing exposed.

The boy was mum, and Tom wondered if, finally, this would be it. That the boy would leave and never come back, never look up at him with those _trusting_ eyes again.

"W-why?" The boy bit out, hesitation and wariness plain on his face. Harry was always an open book to read—a favourite pastime of Tom's—but to his surprise, betrayal wasn't among the swirl of emotions.

Transfiguring the fallen stuffing into pink silk, Tom lined and sewed it back into the toy's "wound."

"You're a growing boy, Harry," Tom answered without looking away from his work. He made sure to create a passage between the silk walls, deep enough for half his wand to penetrate. "I would hate for you to never know the feel of a lady's sexual parts."

With a quick spell, the silk became wet, darkening to a fuchsia colour as it soaked. "After all,” he continued, wand tip glowing as he casted a few more spells, “you're never going to see one.” 

No, Tom agreed, not if he had anything to do with it. The boy would have no need to be exposed to those of any other.

"Here," he said, smiling, pushing the stuffed creature to Harry's face. The boy going cross-eyed at the thick liquid dripping from the lips of the toy's vulva.

"Albert's ready now."

\- -

Harry fitted perfectly between the griffin's four legs. The toy on its back, wings splayed and limbs in the air, caging the naked boy on top of it.

"Tom," Harry whimpered, looking back at him with watery eyes, "I'm—I'm scared."

"Shh," Tom shushed, large hand rubbing the small ass, soothing, putting slight pressure every so often. "Just continue rocking."

"B-but Tom!" The boy tried to twist backward. Tom pushed harder, causing him to fall back into the perverse missionary position. "T-this is weird! Can't—can't we do what we usually do?"

"No, Harry. Don't you trust me?” He removed his touch from the boy’s buttocks, moving to sit on the sofa. “Don't you want to be a good boy?"

Harry whined, and buried his face into the crook of the griffin's neck. Tom watched, entranced by the short and stilted movements of the boy’s hips. Beside him was the uniform's white button-down and grey shorts, folded and stacked. He had Harry keep his knee-high socks on, the only article of clothing on the boy's skin.

Tom had told Harry the wooden floorboards were cold, but the socks only made him all the more innocent and naive.

"Lift your leg up, Harry," he ordered when he noticed the boy beginning to squirm. "Let me see."

The boy lifted up a socked leg like a dog, giving Tom a clear view of the tiny, hardening cock. The foreskin was pink from friction, the head flushed and peeking out from its sleeve.

"You're ready. Stick your dick into Albert's hole." Harry thrust forwards, missing his aim. He pulled back and tried again. Tom frowned when noises of distress came from the boy when he kept failing. "Do you need help, Harry?"

Black curls shook as the boy shivered, the slight frame pushing closer to the toy's body as if to hide.

Sighing, Tom walked to the pair on the floor, kneeling behind them. Taking the small cock in hand, Tom kneaded it for a moment, ignoring the whimpers that followed as a result. He admired the way only three fingers of his could wrap snugly around the boy’s erection. The boy jerked against his touch, but Tom held steadfast and guided it to the hole.

"It's just like how I put my cock into your hole, Harry," Tom breathed into the boy's ear, disappointment evident. He pushed and pulled at the boy's hips, demonstrating, before leaning back. "Now, do it like I normally do. Remember. Copy how I thrust my cock into your hole."

Harry sobbed at the feeling of wet silk. The way viscous liquid engulfed his cock in one smooth stroke, overflowing and dribbling to the floor below. Tom would know, the lubrication charm does the same for Harry's hole, slick and messy.

"I-I'm sorry, Tom." Harry hiccuped, "I'm sorry I'm not a good boy. That—that I couldn't do it by myself." His hips never stopped pumping, the toy griffin rocking eagerly on its back, sucking the boy's cock in.

Soon, sobs transformed to mewls, the uncertain thrusts beginning to smooth. Pink dusted the boy's cheeks, eyes glazing from the novel sensation. "Tom," he moaned, hands pushing the griffin's shoulders as leverage, back curving, "it's so... so _warm_. My dick, it feels like... like it's melting, Tom."

Sitting back, Tom took in the sight the boy made.

The slight lordosis, head tilted back, mouth open to let hot puffs of air escape. Tom’s hand twitched, not yet. 

He couldn’t take the boy now. It wasn’t part of the plan. He’d fuck the boy after he officially became a man. A reward for his boy and a consolation prize for him. A stepping-stone further to his ultimate goal.

All those preparation and early masturbation sessions he gave the boy would go to waste if he caved in now.

But, Tom forced air out of his nose, relaxing the tension in his jaw, the boy was waving his ass in the air, teasing him. It was unintentional, Tom knew, yet that didn’t make the sight any less tantalizing.

He may be one step closer to god-hood, but he was still mortal. 

Tom struck, viper-quick, and spread the boy’s asscheeks, exposing the hole clenching at empty air. A surprised noise escaped the boy’s lips when he knelt behind him.

“Look at that,” Tom breathed, one of his fingers teasing the flexing rim. “Your hole is so used to having me inside here that it’s gaping— _hungry_. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you went around and let other people in here too.”

Dipping a finger in, Tom laughed, delighted at the way the boy’s hole sucked him in. A little force was needed to free his finger, and it came out with a loud _pop_ , the small ring of muscle refusing to let go. 

Leaning forward, Tom licked the boy from perineum to ass cleft before diving his tongue into the inviting hole. With a vice grip, he held the thin hips from their startled jerk. He gave a warning pinch when the boy tried to move away; he was already torturing himself by cockblocking his own dick, he wasn’t going to let the boy do the same either.

Harry pushed his face into Albert’s shoulders, moaning, split between the inviting warmth around his cock and the tongue in his ass. He rocked back onto Tom’s tongue, taking the appendage in deeper, before shoving into Albert, the toy jostling with the force. 

Tom attacked the boy’s hole with fervor, laving the twitching muscle. He alternated between shallow strokes and deep licks against the internal walls. His tongue was so far in that he was placing open-mouthed kisses between the boy’s asscheeks, and still he tried to stretch farther, to reach the prostate.

Fumbling, Tom grabbed the bottom of the stuffed toy and pulled upwards, forcing the boy’s ass higher for him to taste. Harry was mewling, hand fisting the white feathers on the griffin’s neck, as he rolled his hips.

It wasn’t long before Harry was crying out, body clenching around Tom’s tongue. The silk within Albert was contracting, milking the tiny cock. 

A long, thick string of saliva connected Tom’s lips to the boy’s gasping hole when he backed off. With Harry fucked out and pliant, Tom lifted the boy’s lower body by his legs with ease, effectively removing the boy’s cock from the stuffed toy.

Bright blue light lit up from within the griffin’s stomach from a whispered spell. 

“Congratulations, Harry,” Tom praised, pride swelling in his chest. With a smile, Tom kissed up Harry’s inner thigh. He had done it, his boy had done it. 

Harry Potter was officially a man, the watered-down semen inside the toy proof. 

And now, Tom would give Harry the ultimate pleasure as a reward: experiencing a true orgasm from a cock up the ass. Only the best for his boy.

Gently, he slid the boy’s cock back into the depths of the toy’s hole. Harry whined at the sensation but didn't stir. 

There wasn't enough semen in Albert at the moment, but that would be rectified soon enough. 

Licking his lips, Tom finally reached down to palm at his straining erection, a decently sized wet spot staining the front. Yes, it wouldn't be hard to pull two more orgasms from the boy—perhaps three for good measure—enough to amount to an average man’s ejaculate. 

Tom’s cock sprung free when it was finally released. He hissed at his own touch when he pulled down his foreskin, exposing the angry, bulbous head leaking precome copiously. There would be no need for the lubrication charm.

With one hand, he spread the boy’s cheeks, the other guiding his cock into that inviting hole. Tom watched as his cock slipped in easily, the boy accepting the girth with ease.

He pulled back, once, twice, before sliding to the base. There was none of the usual struggle or too-tight tightness when Tom would stick his cock into the small ass, the boy’s hole slack and loose from the post-orgasmic bliss.  
Tom gave a few experimental thrusts before setting a comfortable rhythm, the toy griffin pushing across the floor by the force of it. He should try this some more, with the boy out cold and unaware. It brought a certain thrill that Tom hadn’t known he wanted: a secret within a secret.

A paradox. Sullying a child more than they consented, further tarnishing the innocence that was gifted to his corrupt claws.

Who knows, Tom grinned, Harry might like the feeling of being fucked awake.

\- -

It was almost an hour later that the boy began to come to, hole pulsating around the harsh pounding that Tom subjected it to. 

He had moved Harry and the griffin to his bed, pulling out of the warmth to levitate the pair onto his sheets. 

Tom had maneuvered the boy to lay on the back of the now upright toy, making sure that Harry had mounted the stuffed creature. He had slid back into the boy’s open hole with the same ease as before, the pace quickening and thrusts roughening in intensity when Harry had yet to make any noise at all.

The boy’s hole had clenched weakly, the strength like a newborn infant, around his cock when he plowed that ass. A slow, steady stream of watery come was pooling into the cavern of Albert’s vagina.

When Harry awoke, the boy’s hole clenched around Tom’s cock, the little noises of confusion and sleepiness quickly making way for a loud moan when an orgasm was suddenly pulled from him. 

Tom hissed at the sudden tightness but was relentless in his fucking. He pulled one of Harry’s legs to drape across his waist, his hand on the wool material of the socks, supporting the limb. With his other hand pinning small hips down, Tom used it as leverage to slam himself inside.

Froths of white bubbled from where they were connected, staining the russet-brown fur of the griffin’s hindquarters beneath them. The slick _squelche_ s of his previous orgasm slickening the insides of the boy’s hole. 

“N-noooo, ” Harry whined, spit darkening the white neck feathers, body jarring with each of the brutal thrusts. His small hands scrambled for purchase on the toy’s back, only for them to slip in the next second. “I-it’s too _much_!”

The boy became unbearably tight—so tight that it forced Tom to stop his advances. He sighed before draping himself over the smaller frame.

He pressed kisses to Harry’s temple, trailing them down until his lips reached cute ears. He nibbled at the meat of his ears, drawing tired giggles from the boy’s lips. The body beneath him started to relax, not enough to let him fuck again.

Instead, Tom rocked his hips slowly, pushing Harry forward with each movement. He curled over the boy, mouthing along the nape of the neck and thin shoulders before tracing back to nip at those sensitive ears. 

Soon, the boy’s breathing slowed. He wrapped his small arms against the griffin’s neck, leaning a flushed cheek against feathers. Sweet green eyes hooded by lashes looked back at Tom.

“‘m tired, Tom,” the boy mumbled, rubbing his face on the toy.

Tom smiled, helpless in how vulnerable and cute his boy was. He leaned forward and captured those lips, swallowing down the noises the boy made. 

When they separated, he rested his forehead against the boy’s, eyes trained on the way a bashful blush rose it's way to Harry’s face. Tom was surprised that Harry could get any redder.

“I know you are, sweet boy,” Tom said. He let go of Harry’s thigh—pleased to note that the boy still wrapped it around his waist—and ruffled black curls. He enjoyed the way Harry nuzzled into his touch. 

“But I want you to give me one more orgasm, Harry. Do you remember what an orgasm is?” Harry gave him a nod and a sleepy hum. Tom chuckled at the response and kissed him as a reward. “My good boy is such a smart boy.

“Will you give me that, Harry? Will you give me one more orgasm?” He lowered his voice and rolled his hips upwards, reminding the boy of his still hard cock. “Will you help me finish?”

A moan escaped from the boy, lashes fluttering shut at the sensation. When he opened them again, the boy’s green eyes were glazed. Hesitation was plain on Harry’s face, the lull of tiredness strong.

“It won’t take long,” Tom promised, pressing another kiss to the corner of Harry’s eyes. He gave the boy a gentle smile, hand soothing the boy’s flank. “You can sleep right after, alright?”

Harry bit his lips, brows furrowed in thought. But soon the crease smoothed and Harry lifted his eyes to meet Tom’s. “M’kay,” before hiding his face in Albert’s neck.

Tom didn’t bother to hide his shark-smile. “Such a _good_ boy,” he purred. The boy shivered, hole flexing around his cock. “It’ll be a bit rough but you’ll get to sleep sooner. Good boys will be able to handle it, and you’re _my_ good boy right?”

He didn’t wait for Harry’s reply, there was no need. Pulling his hips away, Tom fucked back in, exchanging depth for speed. He _knew_ his boy would be able to take it. 

Little whimpers and mewls and cute _uhn, uhn, uhn_ s filled the air, spurring Tom on. Tiny fists twisted the toy’s soft feathers, crushing some of them. Tom kept his lips near the boy’s ear, whispering praise after praise. 

The body beneath him shuddered and tightened at each of his words, and it wasn’t long that Harry was coming with a loud cry. 

With the hole suddenly slacked once more, Tom took full advantage. He pounded against the boy’s ass, cock churning and pushing out his old semen. It was messy, wet, animalistic even, but Tom plowed onwards after his own pleasure.

There was something about the boy, his sweet, little _good_ boy, that always unwound him. Something that only the boy could manage that would rile him up so, the beast he spent decades taming breaking free from its hard-wrought chains. 

It was the way the boy would submit to him without question, the way he looked at Tom with those trustful eyes, _always_ coming back to the monster that tore at his innocence with a bright smile. 

Tom snarled, sharp teeth piercing thin skin when he came. Copper filled his mouth as he flooded the boy with a new dose of come. It was enough to replace the old he had fucked out, and then some, streaks of white forced past the boy’s rim.

After catching his breath, he pulled out. A gush of come followed his retreat, and Tom could see the mess inside the boy’s gaping and loose hole.

Harry was unconscious again, drool wetting the sides of his open mouth. 

A reward was to be in order, for the absolute obedience the boy gave him. Perhaps a small cake or even a whole pie of treacle tart. Tom smiled, running a hand across the boy’s back. 

Sweets for a sweet boy, how titular.

\- -

“Thank you so much for watching Harry, Tom.” Ms Potter said the moment she had Harry in her arms, a dripping umbrella by her side. The boy dozed gently on his mother’s shoulders, dead to the world. “I hope he wasn’t trouble.”

“Nonsense, Ms Potter,” Tom replied, brushing back some of the boy’s fluffy black curls. “Harry was an absolute darling.”

Ms. Potter laughed, fiery red hair spilling as she tossed her head back. “Only for you, Tom, only for you. I don’t know how you do it, but you’ve gotten him to finish his schoolwork.” She shifted her hold on the sleeping boy, arm cradling the boy’s bum.

“And please,” her tone exasperated and fond, “call me, Lily. I’ve told you this many times, Tom, when will you listen?”

“Never, Ms. Potter.”

Youthfulness was a wonderful thing, Tom thought as he gave her a cheeky smile. The woman only sighed before wishing him goodnight, Harry’s school bag and folded rain gear in hand.

She assumed he was a young man a few years out of Hogwarts, done with his soul-searching around the globe and ready to settle down. Tom never corrected her. 

And it suited him just fine.

It was that assumption that led Harry to him. Allowed Tom to hold the leash and reins of that precious boy and mold him with his hands—to abuse that innocence and teach both pleasure and pain.

The mother was none the wiser, ignorant to all the lewd and improper ways Tom raised the boy without her knowing. 

His magic stripped the boy of all the deliciously purple bruises decorating the soft ski and healed sores and aches until they were just dull pains, a reminder of what they had done. He would bathe the boy as well, take good care of cleaning the small body inside and out before dressing him once again. 

Magic was a wonderful thing, Tom mused, the bottle of sweet Harry’s semen in his hand as he entered his potion room. It could do a great many things—even the impossible like immortality.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this was inspired by a doujinshi.


End file.
